


Counting the Seconds

by MaxWrite



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Spanking, very mild Dom/Sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-08
Updated: 2009-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Chekov, everything is numbers. Right now it's 544,320,000 seconds and counting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Counting the Seconds

_45, 46, 47, 48..._

Pavel counted off each of his footsteps in his head from the moment he'd stepped off the turbolift.

 _...8... 9, 10..._

He saluted each of the golden-shirted officers he passed as he counted them off. He saluted officers not wearing golden shirts as well, but he wasn't counting them.

 _...544,320,000, 544,320,001, 544,320,002..._

There were a lot of seconds in 17 years and three months. Pavel knew this because he couldn't stop his internal stop watch. Ever.

 _...55, 56, 57, 58, 59..._

Almost there. Sickbay was in view. His steps quickened.

 _...63,64,65,66..._

He strode into Sickbay, slowed his pace and headed straight for the Chief Medical Officer's office.

 _...68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73._

73 steps from the nearest turbolift to the CMO's office. Sometimes it was 74 steps. Other times it was 70.

He pressed the door chime. When the doctor admitted him, the door slid open and there was Doctor McCoy, seated at his desk, a tumbler of some kind of amber liquid held lightly between his fingers. He was leaning back in his chair and looking at something on his computer screen. His eyes glanced up and landed on Pavel's face, one eyebrow arching upward.

"Hello, Ensign," he said in his low, almost-growl, while his eyes traveled down Pavel's body and then back up again.

 _...544,320,035, 544,320,036, 544,320,037..._

"Hello, Doctor."

Pavel stepped inside and the door slid shut behind him.

 

* * *

Bones let the kid in. He almost always did, provided he wasn't busy. He should be thoroughly annoyed by these little interruptions, but he figured he probably ought to just be grateful that the kid had dropped the pretense of minor injuries in order to come visit him. At the very least it meant that Bones didn't have to get up. He supposed Chekov had finally figured out that appearing as fragile as all those bogus injuries made him appear probably wasn't good for his career. Bones had figured out pretty quickly that the kid had ulterior motives. The question was what the hell were they and how were they going to fuck up Bones's life?

Thus far Chekov hadn't been too much of a bother. He would come in during his off hours and chat idly with Bones about various things, Bones's life mostly. He seemed curious about everything; what Bones was like as a child ("Same as now," Bones always said.), what he loved most about being a doctor ("The part when the patient quits griping is always nice."), what he did during his spare time ("Exactly what I'm doing now," Bones would say and then take a sip of whatever he was drinking.).

Okay, so Bones didn't mind so much having the kid there. If he had minded, Chekov wouldn't have been allowed to stay in the first place. He was a good kid, after all; bright, inquisitive, not half-bad looking. Bones was just a bit suspicious of his motives, that's all. Who wouldn't be?

He appeared at Bones's door with that look of curious innocence (which only made Bones more suspicious) on his young face. Bones looked him up and down, nodded his head once to tell him it was okay to enter, and then looked back down at his computer screen.

The kid hovered. He wandered idly around the office, looking at various things and touching things Bones would rather he didn't. Bones waited for the boy to start asking questions. Because he always did.

"How have you been, Doctor?"

"Same," said Bones without looking up. He could feel the kid's eyes on him.

"What are you doing later?"

"This."

"Do you ever do anything else?"

"No."

Chekov looked away and went about disturbing Bones's belongings. Bones took the opportunity to examine the kid warily. He was a cute kid. Terribly cute. Pale-skinned and slender, wide-eyed and pouty-lipped, curly-haired and baby-faced. Another time, another place, another universe, Bones's near-dormant libido might've been aroused by such a creature. Yes, a completely different universe. Not this one. Not at all.

"Why did you get married?" Chekov asked without looking back at him.

Bones frowned as the question jogged his memory in ways he didn't care for. "Naïvete. Stupidity... I want to say 'love', but that's just asinine."

Now the kid glanced back at him. Bones dropped his eyes back to his screen.

"But you must have loved her, yes?"

"Course. But that alone ain't no reason to marry someone."

"There is nothing without love," said Chekov, looking away again.

"Hmph," Bones grunted. Naïve kid. "Marriage is a business like any other. Soon as one party isn't getting what they want, the whole thing falls apart. Love ain't enough, kid."

"I think you are just frightened."

"Bitter. The word you're looking for there is bitter."

"You should not be afraid."

Bones looked up again and found the kid watching him serenely, something maddeningly knowing in his young eyes. What could this kid possibly know that he didn't?

"A man like you," said Chekov with a soft smile on his pink lips. "You have much love inside you. You should not hide."

Bones blinked at him and then looked down again. "Start making sense, will you? Otherwise go away."

 

* * *

 _...544,320,123, 544,320,124, 544,320,125..._

Pavel thought perhaps he'd overstepped his bounds with that last comment. But the doctor didn't throw him out, so perhaps not. Pavel wasn't even sure what he was doing there. He was never sure. Each time he visited the doctor, he'd question and babble and slowly, surely, his remarks became more and more personal, like he was tentatively trying to peck away at the doctor's armor. Everything about the doctor told Pavel this was probably a bad idea. Well, almost everything. There was something else there that was urging him on.

 _...544,320,137, 544,320,138, 544,320,139..._

He approached the desk, walked around to the doctor's side and perched on its edge, right next to him. Doctor McCoy looked up, looking half-quizzical and half-annoyed. Well, he always looked annoyed, so Pavel tried to calm his nerves.

Doctor McCoy did that thing with his lips that always made Pavel's stomach do flips, that thing where he pressed them together tightly in annoyance, and his eyebrows knitted together even more. It made his features look even more scrunched up in the middle of his face. It made him look stern and pissed off and sexy. He exhaled heavily through his nose, pressed a button on his computer to shut off the screen and then fixed Pavel with his penetrating and almost demanding gaze.

"What are you up to, kid? You come in here, you touch my things, you ask questions no other human being would have the guts to ask me, _especially_ not an ensign. You gotta lotta nerve, you know that?"

"I apologize, Doctor. I am... curious about your life."

"My life is my work. Other than that, it's about as exciting as this shitty carpet," said the doctor, gesturing at the floor. "There's nothing to tell, and frankly I think you're up to something."

Well, that was true, Pavel supposed. He certainly wasn't here in Sickbay everyday for his health. So, this was it. The doctor had finally asked and wasn't going to let up until he got an answer. It was now or never.

Pavel reached out without knowing exactly what he was doing. The doctor froze and watched his hand as one watches an approaching mosquito; with trepidation, irritation and a palpable desire to swat. But the doctor didn't move as Pavel's fingers drew nearer and finally touched the smooth, dark chocolate bangs that swept across his forehead.

 _...544,320,206, 544,320,207, 544,320,208..._

 

* * *

What the hell was this now?

The kid was _touching_ him. Touching his _hair_. What the...?

And then it hit Bones like a sack of bricks; the boy was attracted to him.

Wait... _what?_

But it was plain as day now and written all over that young face. The creamy cheeks were flushed, the pink mouth was slightly open as though in wonder, the big, blue, eternally questioning eyes were now somewhat sleepy, dreamy-like. Christ, the kid had long lashes.

Bones ought to have said something, ought to have pushed Chekov's hand away, but he just sat there. The soft fingers moved down and touched his actual face next, caressing down his temple, his cheek and then his jaw and neck, and then the kid was moving, sliding off the desk, and _into his lap_.

CHRIST!

What was now happening inside Bones's pants was something that shouldn't have been happening in this universe, but there it was, one of the most eager hard-ons the doctor had had in a long while. Chekov settled gingerly on his lap and Bones knew the kid must have been able to feel his erection. Bones felt short of breath and started breathing harder. He felt dizzy. This was unreal.

"You shouldn't be doing this, kid," he murmured breathily, looking up into Chekov's eyes. The kid's eyebrows went up in the center, giving him that lost puppy look that he always wore, the one that always made Bones have to tell himself _No, not here, another universe, a completely different universe._

Chekov nestled against him, his face barely an inch from Bones's. He smelled so clean and pure, it was maddening, it made Bones's cock twitch, made his head spin. Chekov's almost imploring eyes were darting all over Bones's face, taking him in. Must have been fascinating from Chekov's perspective; hardly anyone ever got this close to Bones.

Chekov was caressing his face again and slowly shutting his eyes. The kid was going to kiss him. This seventeen-year-old was going to kiss him and Bones couldn't make himself move.

 

* * *

 _3... 2... 1... contact._

Pavel had never been kissed. His heart was beating a mile a minute and he was certain that any second now the doctor was going to push him away. That second never came, however, and unless Pavel was very much mistaken, the doctor was hard; Pavel could feel it against his thighs. And the doctor was kissing back, pursing his lips against his. Pavel inhaled deeply, the smell of bourbon and something soft and clean and slightly perfumey filling his nose. One of the doctor's hands found its way to the small of his back and Pavel shuddered with excitement and arousal. Encouraged, he tilted his head and kissed more deeply.

The kiss had been going on for 12 seconds so far... _13, 14, 15..._

 

* * *

He was like a doll. He was like a fucking porcelain doll. Bones felt as though he might accidentally break the boy. Well, Chekov was hardly delicate. He was a solid young man, but lanky and much, much smaller than Bones. Bones touched people's bodies everyday. This shouldn't have felt so strange, except that it did, because he almost never had to put his tongue in his patients' mouths.

Chekov was all eager lips and nerves and impatience. And inexperience; it was clear he'd never kissed anyone before. Bones felt suddenly protective, suddenly... fatherly? Oh, no. He immediately tried to push that thought away. If that was what the kid was after, some kind of bizarre, sexual father figure thing, he could just forget it. Bones knew he really should stop kissing him to clarify the situation. He really, really should.

But the kid had opened his mouth and was sucking eagerly at Bones's bottom lip and, Jesus Holy Christ, he smelled so good, Bones couldn't help but taste him. Well, a little kissing lesson before the question period couldn't hurt, could it?

Bones slowed the kiss, taking charge, silently urging Chekov to follow his lead. Chekov's urgent nipping calmed down. Bones slipped his tongue forward, between Chekov's lips, and every molecule in his body seemed to scream "YES!" Chekov seemed to agree and emitted the most delicious little moan, a sound so completely sexual, and yet so sweetly innocent, Bones felt like his dick was about to rocket right off his body. Chekov began gently suckling on his tongue, making soft little sucking noises and emitting even softer little whimpers, and Bones's eyes rolled up behind his lids. He let out a low growl, and the sound of his own voice shook him back to reality. He was kissing an ensign in his office. The kid was _seventeen_. Good god.

Bones broke the kiss and Chekov chased after his lips for a moment before Bones spoke.

"Stop it, kid. Stop."

Chekov opened his eyes and they were now so filled with lust that Bones couldn't look directly into them.

"Doctor?" Chekov breathed.

"We can't do this. You know that."

"Please..." Chekov started kissing him again, this time even more ravenously. Bones gently disengaged and shook his head.

"We _can't_."

The kid looked so needy, so desperate, it made Bones ache.

"Please," Chekov whispered. "Please, Doctor."

"Are... are you _begging_?"

"Da," said Chekov, nodding.

That must've meant 'yes'. Bones could hardly believe it. This _child_ was begging _him_ for sex. How the hell did this happen?

Well, they certainly couldn't do that in here. Bones had enough blood left in his brain to realize that. But those eyes, those big, blue eyes, were pleading and Chekov was lightly panting and his hot breath on Bones's face felt maddeningly good. The weight of his body in Bones's lap, against his chest, felt unsettlingly right.

Bones slipped his arm around Chekov and gently rubbed his belly through his shirt. He felt a bit like a dirty old perv and only slightly in a good way.

"Do you... want me to touch you?" he whispered.

Chekov didn't hesitate to nod.

Bones took a deep, silent breath and, keeping his eyes on Chekov's face, he moved his hand down and began unfastening the young man's trousers. Chekov looked down to watch this. He shifted a bit and spread his legs. The movement, the very _idea_ of the movement, made Bones's dick pulse.

 _Are you really going to do this?_ he asked himself. _Really? In your office? With a virtual child?_

The answer was apparently 'yes'. Bones slipped his hand inside the ensign's underwear.

 

* * *

 _...544,320,413, 544,320,414, 544,320,415... ... … …_

The counting stopped. The doctor's hand was inside Pavel's underwear. The doctor's big hand was wrapped around his cock. And the counting had stopped. Seventeen years and three months of seconds diligently and obsessively kept track of, and the clock had finally come to a halt.

"Is that all right?" asked the doctor, his gruff voice low and as soft as Pavel has ever heard it.

Pavel nodded. "Yes, Doctor."

The doctor's soft, brown eyes were watching him intently now. He was checking to see that Pavel really was okay. Pavel had never been better, and as the doctor's hand pulled his prick out and began gently stroking it, Pavel couldn't help but shudder. He dropped his head down onto the doctor's broad, solid shoulder.

"That's it, just relax," the doctor murmured. He leaned his cheek against Pavel's head and cuddled him, that strong arm encircling him more tightly. "Does that feel good?"

Pavel only whined in response. It felt so good, he couldn't articulate it. He brought a hand up and clutched at the doctor's shirt. He moved his mouth to the doctor's neck and started kissing and suckling.

The doctor sighed and said, almost with resignation, "You are terribly sweet, aren't you?" And he stroked Pavel faster.

Soon Pavel was grabbing at the doctor's big shoulder, hanging onto it as the doctor's expert rubbing made the pleasure build, made him pant harder and harder, made his body quiver. The doctor was gently swiveling his chair from side to side, ever so slightly, as though rocking Pavel.

"Do you want to come?" whispered the doctor.

"Da... uhn... _uhn_..." Pavel was barely able to get the words out before his seed began spurting all over the doctor's patient hand.

 

* * *

Does that _feel good_? It was a ridiculous question! Of course it felt good, it was a hand job, for Christ sakes!

But the words flowed as easily from Bones's mouth as air. He was good at this, these meaningless, murmured things, the sorts of things you say during intimacy or to make a patient feel better. He dealt with people during some of the most intimate moments of their lives, so he'd better be good at this type of thing.

Of course, he never felt like a filthy old man when he saw patients.

The kid was quivering and moaning things in Russian and he felt positively delicious and he sounded even better and Bones felt as though he wanted to cuddle the boy for the rest of his life. The warm weight of Chekov's cock felt good in his hand and he couldn't stop watching himself rub it, couldn't stop watching the glistening slit. And finally the boy erupted, shaking, panting and groaning. Bones held onto him tighter, rocking him and murmuring to him. The things he said disturbed him; why was Chekov a good boy for having an orgasm? And why was he suddenly _Bones's_ good boy?

Chekov began to relax, his noises quieting down and finally stopping altogether. He lay there against Bones, catching his breath, his hand, which had been clutching at Bones's shoulder, falling limply into his lap.

Bones let his hand rest lightly on Chekov's softening prick, mostly because it was covered in come and he didn't want to touch anything else just yet.

"So?" Bones finally asked. "Was it everything you'd hoped?"

Chekov finally raised his head and smiled dopily at him. "As much as I can hope for, for now."

Bones arched an eyebrow. "For now? You expect this to happen again?"

"I hope, yes," Chekov whispered. He boldly leaned in and kissed Bones again, this time with more confidence. There was no hesitation in the boy's lips this time, although there was still a great deal of bad technique. He licked and sucked rather sloppily and Bones had to stop him before either of them could get carried away. Bones was still rock solid inside his pants, after all.

"Whoa, hold on there, kid," he grumbled, nudging Chekov away. "I think we've done enough for one day."

"But you still have not come." Chekov looked down, shifted a bit and moved his hand to Bones's crotch. Bones nearly jumped out of his seat. He grabbed the kid's hand to stop him.

"No. Not here."

Chekov looked at him mournfully, a look that damn near broke Bones's heart. "But... do you not want –"

"No, I want," Bones grudgingly admitted. "But... not here."

"Where then? And when?"

Bones hesitated.

"Doctor. Where and when?"

The kid wasn't letting up. He wanted this. Bones sighed.

"Barring any unforeseen medical disasters... Friday night. My quarters." He muttered these last words and lowered his eyes as he said them. "20:00 hours."

He could see the kid grinning in his periphery. That grin was the brightest, shiniest thing that had ever been inside his office.

"Yes, sir," said Chekov breathlessly.

"Now, zip up and get the hell outta here, will you? I've got work to do."

Chekov reached for tissues on Bones's desk, wiped himself and fastened his trousers. He then took hold of Bones's hand and wiped it clean for him. Bones allowed this, watched the kid as he did it. Chekov looked serene and content as he gently wiped his come from Bones's fingers.

Chekov finally raised his eyes to meet Bones's and, Jesus, the kid had never looked happier.

"Friday, then," he said with a nod. Bones gave him a nod in return. Chekov stood, tossed the tissues in the nearby trash can, straightened his clothes and left the office.

Bones just sat and stared after the boy had gone. He pressed his fingers to the hard bulge inside his pants and looked down at it his crotch.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this now?" he muttered.

 

* * *

266,456 seconds until 20:00 hundred hours on Friday night.

 _... 266,455, 266,454, 266,453..._

END


	2. How Poetic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The kid had actually shown up. Bones supposed he shouldn't have been surprised... He had to give Chekov credit; kid had serious balls._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snippets of the novel [Only Revolutions](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Only_Revolutions) by Mark Z. Danielewski are used in this story. Anything within those snippets that appears to be a typo probably isn't. It's a very strange book. Anything _outside_ those snippets that appears to be a typo... oops. Totally my bad.

"Mmph... oh, yeah... Bonesy... fuck..."

The captain's fists were knotted almost painfully in Bones's hair and Bones's mouth was filled with his prick. Jim was laid out before him in Bones's bed, naked and growing more and more intense as Bones sucked him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," Jim panted. "Just... a little bit... suck harder... just a bit harder... oh, oh, oh..."

Jim burst in Bones's mouth, spurting against the back of his throat.

"Ahhhh, yeah, suck it all down," Jim groaned as his muscles spasmed. His fingers gripped more tightly in Bones's hair. Bones tolerated this for a few seconds and then wrenched his head away, taking Jim out of his mouth and using his hand on him instead.

"Ah, god, what's wrong?" Jim panted. Bones didn't answer. He used his hand on Jim until Jim was finished and then he wiped his mouth with a quick, rough swipe of the back of his hand, crawled up and flopped down on his back next to Jim. He stared at the ceiling and listened to Jim catch his breath.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Jim.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. You're never that gentle with me."

Bones frowned. "What are you babbling about?"

"Just now. Didn't you hear me saying 'harder, harder'?"

"I heard you."

"Just now, during the blowjob, or did you happen to hear me the other eighty million times I've said it tonight?"

Bones sighed and reached up to rub his forehead. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm a bit preoccupied."

"I'll say." Jim rolled onto his side to face Bones and propped his head up on his hand. "Talk to me."

"No, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"It's not important."

"Bonesy," said Jim in a mock warning tone. "You're keeping things from me."

With another heavy sigh, Bones looked over at Jim. Jim was giving him his very best pout. Bones rolled his eyes.

"I'm having a crisis of conscience, okay?"

"Conscience?"

"Yes, Jim, you know that little voice in your head that tells you when you're doing something wro..." Bones trailed off as Jim stared blankly at him. Bones looked away again. "Never mind, I forgot who I was talking to."

"Can you not tell me what's going on? What, you don't trust me?"

"It's not about trust. It's about... protocol."

"Protocol? What'd you do?" Jim grinned. "Am I gonna have to throw you in the brig?"

Bones's frown intensified and he said nothing.

"Dude."

Bones sat up abruptly and got up off the bed. His and Jim's clothes were scattered on the floor of his quarters. He could hear Jim moving around on the bed behind him as he began to get dressed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" asked Jim.

Bones pulled on his boxers and then just stood there with his back to Jim. "Jesus," he muttered.

"Do you mean to tell me there's something you feel you can't discuss with me?"

Now Jim sounded hurt. He wasn't playing anymore. Bones took a seat on the bed and Jim, still naked, moved up next to him. Bones leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Jim, the thing is I've been... inappropriate with another officer."

There was a moment of silence, and then Jim said, "Oh, wait. Is this that game where you pretend to be talking about someone else, but you're actually talking about me?"

"No, goddammit, I'm not being coy! And that's your game, not mine."

"Who's the officer?"

"Someone very young," Bones sighed.

"Oh, really?" asked Jim, sounding impressed. Bones shot him a glare.

"Dammit, Jim, this is serious!"

"Well, how young? Chekov's the youngest officer we have on board, so assuming it's not him," Jim snorted and chuckled at the very idea, "whoever it is couldn't be much younger than 19."

Bones looked away and ground his teeth together. He was perfectly aware that his silence was saying more than he wanted it to. He could just hear the wheels in Jim's head spinning. He wished Jim wouldn't stare at him so.

"Bones? _Bonesy!_ Look at me."

Bones looked at him sidelong and arched an eyebrow. Jim was watching him with a serious frown.

"I want you to answer me honestly, okay?"

"We'll see," said Bones.

"Okay." Jim turned more towards Bones and got comfortable. He held up his hands as though he was about to try to explain something very complicated and he looked Bones right in the eye. "Did you... or did you _not_... fuck the little Russian?"

Bones winced at those words. "No. No, of course not."

"But that is who we're talking about, isn't it?"

"I never said... I mean, I didn't..."

Jim nodded. "So, we are talking about the kid. Got it."

"I did not fuck him!"

"What are you so worried about, then?"

"I gave him a hand job!" Bones blurted out.

Jim's eyes went wide and his face broke into a huge grin. "Really? When?"

"Tuesday evening. And he's coming here tomorrow night to get fucked for the first time in his life."

Jim was now practically giggling with glee. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious! You think I'd joke about something like this?"

"But when? How?"

"I don't even know," Bones grumbled, wringing his hands. "He came into my office Tuesday and he... crawled into my lap."

"Why?"

Bones glanced at him again. "Well, don't sound so damn shocked, asshole."

"No, I'm not saying he shouldn't be attracted to you. I just meant that... well, something must've led to that. You don't just crawl into someone's lap. You must've been giving him signals or something."

"Well, if you consider allowing the kid to fucking hover around everyday and ask me personal questions some kind of _signal_ –"

Jim nodded. "Yes, I'd consider that a signal. From you, anyway."

"Why me?"

"Because you don't let anybody do that. You don't even let _me_ do that. Why were you letting him hang around?"

"Because," Bones muttered with a shrug and he looked down sheepishly. "I didn't mind having him there."

"You see that?" said Jim, pointing at him. "Right there."

"What?"

"Bones, you hate everybody. If you don't mind having someone hovering around in your office, something's up, most likely your dick."

Bones winced again. "Jesus."

"So," said Jim with a grin, "you jerked him off, did ya?"

Bones glared at him. "This is serious, Jim. He's seventeen. And you should be throwing my ass in the brig right now."

"Oh, please, you know I'm not gonna do that. You're not some sick predator, you're a good guy. And _he_ came onto _you_ , right?"

"That's no excuse."

"Did he want it?"

"That doesn't matter!"

"Yes, it does! He crawled into your lap! You didn't drag him, kicking and screaming, did you?"

"Of course not."

"Well, then? If he wants it, let him have it."

"You're not at all bothered by this?"

"Nah," said Jim with a wave of his hand. "Why would I be?"

"I shoulda known," Bones muttered. He stood up again and was about to start getting dressed, but Jim reached out and took hold of the waistband of his boxers.

"And where do you think you're going, Doctor?"

Bones glanced back at him with an intense frown. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not done with you yet." Jim yanked Bones back and Bones staggered and fell backward onto the bed. Jim laid next to him and cuddled up against his side. He stroked Bones's chest and stomach and murmured, "Tell me about Tuesday evening."

Bones grimaced. "Come on."

"You can _not_ tell me something like that happened and then not tell me all the dirty details. Even you can't be that cruel."

"Watch me." Bones tried to sit up, but Jim nudged him back down again.

"As your captain, I order you to tell me what happened." Jim slipped his hand down inside Bones's boxers and began to play with his flaccid cock. "How did it happen? He just walked up and sat in your lap?"

"No," grumbled Bones. "He came in and went about what he normally does when he visits, which is touch my stuff and pry into my personal life. Then he came over and sat on the edge of my desk."

"Yeah? Did he have that look on his face?"

"What look?"

"You know. That sweet, innocent look. With the eyebrows."

Bones fidgeted as his cock began to harden in Jim's hand. "He always looks like that."

" _Ungh_! Fuck, I love that look."

Bones arched an eyebrow at him. "Do _you_ wanna fuck Ensign Chekov?"

"Yes. That shouldn't come as a shock to you."

"It doesn't."

"So, what happened next?"

"He reached out and touched my goddamn hair."

"Ha!" Jim laughed. "He did what? And you just _let_ him? Man, you got it bad."

"He's just a kid, I wasn't gonna go and bite his head off."

"Uh-huh. And then what?"

"Then he slid off the desk and into my lap."

"Fuck," Jim whispered. "You liked that, didn't you?"

"Oh, fuck you."

"Nah, I can tell you liked it. Shit, you're hard, Bonesy." Jim began stroking him faster. "You liked having that sweet, young thing cuddle up to you in your lap, didn't you, you old pervert?"

"Fuck, Jim," Bones whispered, closing his eyes for a moment as Jim's stroking began to feel really good. "No, I did not like it."

"Well, you didn't push him away. You let him cuddle right up to you. And what happened next, hm? With that pretty little pink mouth right there in your face."

"Ahh," Bones moaned as he gently rolled his hips. "He kissed me."

"And you let him, didn't you?"

Bones reached up and gripped the back of Jim's neck rather roughly, hung onto it as he growled through clenched teeth, "Yes."

"Ahh, there's the Bonesy I know and love," said Jim with a smile, his hand still expertly working Bones's dick. "There's that snarling, horny bastard. Did he see it? This side of you? Did you show it to him?"

"Course not," Bones panted. "Didn't wanna... scare the boy... Fuck, Jim."

"You didn't lose control with that sweet little piece of ass sitting in your lap?" Jim asked sweetly.

"No... I was... gentle... ohfuckfuckfuckfuck..." Bones grunted and tensed up all over and started coming in his underwear.

"That's why you were so gentle with me this time around," Jim said as he squeezed every last drop out of Bones's dick. "You were thinking about him, weren't you?"

"No," Bones protested as he shuddered. "Don't be a fucking idiot!"

"Oh, but I think you were, you filthy fuck. Fantasizing about that jailbait ass while you fucked me."

Bones pulled Jim's face down to his and kissed him hard, partly to shut him up. Jim kissed back, sticking his tongue deep inside Bones's mouth and working his prick until Bones's shuddering finally ceased. Bones's hand fell limply from Jim's neck and Jim pulled his mouth away as his stroking slowed and then finally stopped. Bones lay there, spent and panting.

"You were thinking about him," Jim said. Bones opened his eyes and found Jim watching him with a half-hot, half-smirking look in his eyes. "You weren't with me tonight. While we were fucking. I could tell."

"Jim –"

"It's cool, I'm not upset. I'd be distracted too if something like that had happened to me."

Bones watched as Jim slid to the edge of the bed, stood and began to get dressed. Bones sat up.

"So, he kissed you," said Jim as he pulled on his underwear. "Then what?"

"Well," said Bones with a sigh, "then I put my hand in his pants and jerked him off."

"Mm."

"You sure you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine. It's you I'm worried about." Jim got his socks and his pants on and turned to face Bones.

"Why are you worried about me?"

"Not sure you should be fucking the little Russian. Not sure your conscience can handle it."

Bones made a face and looked away.

"You come off all tough, but inside you're all soft and squishy, dude. You're a big fucking teddy bear wrapped in this hard, gruff shell. That's probably why the kid likes you."

"Oh, he can't tell I'm a teddy bear... And I am not a teddy bear!"

Jim bent to pick up his shirt next. "Yeah, you are. This kid came onto _you_ , but you're the one sitting here agonizing over it."

"He's a child, Jim. I took advantage."

"Oh, he is not a child. He's practically an adult, he can make his own decisions."

"No, he can't!" Bones stood up, wincing at the sticky mess in his boxers. "If he really understood what he wants from me, if he really understood the ramifications, then Tuesday night never would've happened. Adults understand things like that. Children are too damned impulsive, they think they're invincible."

"Oh?" asked Jim as he pulled on his shirt. "So, you had a good, hard think before you played with his dick, did you?"

Bones gritted his teeth. "As a matter of fact, I did."

"Yeah? I don't know. Playing with a seventeen-year-old ensign's dick in your office? Ohhh, I'd say that sounds a tad impulsive, wouldn't you, Doc?"

Bones lowered his gaze and shook his head. "Jesus," he muttered again.

"Hey, come on." Jim clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm all for you showing the kid a good time if he wants it. Just make _sure_ he wants it. And make sure you want it."

"Course I want it," Bones crossed his arms. "He's sweet and he's cute as fuck. Who wouldn't wanna fuck him?"

Jim finished getting dressed and then stepped closer and murmured, "It's okay to be impulsive sometimes. You two play your cards right, this doesn't have to end badly."

"I don't wanna hurt the kid."

Jim shrugged. "Then don't. He's a big boy. He can handle the truth. He's not stupid, he can't possibly expect this to turn into anything serious."

Bones chewed the inside of his lip and stared at Jim with one narrowed eye. "You're really no help at all, you know that?"

Jim smirked. "What, you expected me to try to talk you out of it?"

"I was hoping, yeah."

"You know me better than that by now, don't you?" Jim stepped closer, cupped Bones's face and leaned in for a soft, gentle kiss. "Fuck the little Russian, Bonesy," he whispered against Bones's lips. "Fuck him good and hard for me."

Bones had to smile as he took Jim by his waist. "God, you're a sick son of a bitch."

Jim chuckled softly, opened his eyes and gazed at Bones. "Kid's got good taste, you know."

"Oh, please," said Bones with a roll of his eyes.

"And you have to tell me all the details; what he sounds like, what his dick looks like, how much come he can produce –"

"I can tell you all that right now."

"So, tell me, then."

Bones smirked. "Get the fuck out, Jim."

Jim smiled at him, his eyes sleepy and only for Bones in that moment. "I'll catch you later," he said as he backed away toward the bedroom door. "I'll tell Chekov you said 'hi'."

"You'll do no such thing."

With a mischievous giggle, Jim backed out of the room.

 

* * *

 _... 10, 9, 8, 7..._

Pavel walked briskly down the corridor. He wasn't counting his steps today. He had a much more important count going on in his head, one that had been going on for the last three days.

 _... 5, 4, 3, 2, 1._

He stopped right outside Dr. McCoy's quarters, turned and faced the door. He stood there for a moment feeling his own heart banging away inside his chest. It was 20:00 hours and seven seconds... eight, nine, ten... If he stood there much longer, he was going to be very late indeed.

Pavel pressed the door chime and waited.

The door slid open and there stood the doctor. He was in civilian clothes, nothing fancy, a plain black shirt with short sleeves that let Pavel see the curve of muscle at the lower part of the doctor's biceps. Pavel had never seen the doctor show this much skin and had to force himself not to stare. The doctor glowered down at Pavel, blinking at him as though surprised he was standing there, and then his eyes began darting around, checking the rest of the corridor.

"You're here," he said.

"Yes, Doctor."

Dr. McCoy frowned at him again as though he was considering sending Pavel away. Finally, he stepped aside and grumbled, "Come on in, then."

Pavel stepped into the room. It was dimly lit, very neat and seemed to house only the bare essentials. Where most officers would have a small living room set-up, there was only one armchair and a small coffee table. Across from that there was a small, round table with a little computer sitting on it and only one chair. Pavel wondered if perhaps the doctor didn't spend much of his time in his quarters.

And across the room was another door, and Pavel knew exactly what was behind it. His heart pattered nervously and he discreetly touched the inside of his left wrist so he could count the beats: _1, 2, 3, 4, 5..._

Dr. McCoy had poked his head out the door to look up and down the corridor before pulling his head back in and letting the door close. He came and stood next to Pavel and surveyed his quarters too. "I don't get many visitors," he said as though trying to explain the sparseness of the décor.

Pavel nodded. "Yes, Doctor. Doctor? You were looking for someone just now?"

"Oh, that. No, I was just making sure no one saw you come in here. No reason for an ensign to be visiting me at eight o'clock at night. Well, no reason besides the obvious, and we can't have people thinking that."

"Yes, Doctor."

"So... are you hungry?"

Pavel hadn't had supper yet. He'd been too nervous to eat. Still, he was about as far from hungry as one could get. He shook his head.

"Hmph," the doctor grunted. "Can I get you a drink, then?"

"Yes," Pavel said immediately. "Yes, please."

They looked at each other, the doctor surveying him with his customary arched eyebrow as though suspicious of him. Pavel fidgeted under that gaze but continued to hold it, no matter how shy the doctor made him feel. The doctor would probably think it was cute if he looked away sheepishly, but Pavel was trying desperately to fight his cute-little-boy image. He disliked that most people saw him that way, as the cute, innocent boy genius. He was an adult (well, almost) and he drank and was ready to have sex. Period.

Finally the doctor strode away, toward the small kitchen area, where he opened up a cupboard and pulled out a half-empty bottle of amber liquid and a glass.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" he asked as he unscrewed the bottle's top.

"In some places, yes."

"Hmph," the doctor grunted again. "How about in Russia?"

Pavel shook his head even though Dr. McCoy had his back turned. "No, Doctor. In Russia, drinking age is eighteen."

"Christ," said the doctor under his breath as he poured. "Forget I asked. Let's not keep reminding me how young you are, all right?"

"Yes, Doctor."

It had been one minute and thirty-two seconds since Pavel had set foot in the doctor's quarters.

 

* * *

The kid had actually shown up. Bones supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. After all, this was the same person who'd rather boldly visited him nearly everyday for the past month and pried into his personal life as though they were old friends. He had to give Chekov credit; kid had serious balls.

He returned to Chekov with a tumbler of bourbon and handed it to him. "You know, you can sit if you..." he began, but trailed off as Chekov threw his head back and downed the entire glass in one gulp. Bones stared at him in surprise and barely noticed when Chekov handed the glass back to him.

"Thank you," said Chekov with a little nod and then promptly hiccuped.

"Uh... you're welcome. Well, at least I know that wasn't your first taste of alcohol."

Chekov looked up at him sheepishly from beneath his long lashes. Bones watched a rosy hue bloom across the pale skin of the kid's cheeks and nose. Whether it was from embarrassment or just the alcohol that was now coursing through his system, Bones couldn't tell, but what he did know was that it was one of the prettiest things he'd ever seen.

Bones swallowed hard and turned away, headed back to the kitchen, where he poured himself a drink and downed it just as quickly as Chekov had.

"I have to admit, I wasn't sure you were going to show," he said as he wandered back over to the kid.

"You did not want me to come?"

The answer was both 'yes' and 'no', but that would take too long to explain, so instead Bones grudgingly admitted, "Yeah, sure, I did. I just thought maybe you might somehow pick up a little common sense someplace before tonight."

Chekov cocked his head. "I do not understand."

"I thought you might realize that this is a bad idea and decide not to come. Because this _is_ a bad idea. It's the worst fucking idea I've ever been a part of, 'less you count my marriage."

Chekov nodded. "I know. You think I am a baby."

"Damn right I do. And you're my subordinate. I could get in some serious shit for simply having you here."

They stared at each for a moment and then looked away awkwardly. When Bones glanced at the kid again he found Chekov staring directly at the bedroom door across the room. Bones felt his dick stir.

"You know what's behind that door?" he asked.

"Yes, Doctor." Chekov looked up at him again and he looked every one of his seventeen years, his eyes big and full of nervousness. He looked slowly down Bones's body, taking him all in. Bones imagined the kid was mentally undressing him. Bones fidgeted and looked away.

"What is that?" Chekov asked suddenly. Bones followed his eyes to the armchair in the living room area. There was something on the seat. He looked at Chekov again and found him watching him again, hesitantly. Bones rolled his eyes and jerked his head at the chair.

"Go on, investigate if you want," he sighed. He wasn't entirely comfortable with that, but it wasn't as though there was much in his quarters for Chekov to go snooping in. Besides, letting him explore was a more desirable option than just standing there together awkwardly.

Chekov approached the chair and picked the book up off the seat.

 

* * *

There was no title, no words on its cover. The cover art was made up of a collage of various things. On one side were shades of yellow, gold, reddish-brown and silvery-white in things like yellow rose buds, a single sunflower, pieces of amber and what appeared to be twigs and leaves painted gold. There were tiny, colorless crystals, like beads, and the small skull of an animal. On the other side were dead butterflies and other shimmering, iridescent insects, leaves and twigs and berries, a little mouse, a shell, a bird's nest, all in shades of palest to deepest shimmering jewel-green, ghostly gray-white, and the same reddish-brown connected the two sides. It was the strangest book Pavel had ever seen. It was also quite beautiful.

The doctor approached and Pavel looked up at him.

"It's a novel," said Dr. McCoy. "Yes, I read."

Pavel wondered what sorts of things the doctor read. What sort of novel was this? He looked at the doctor again. "You will read some for me?" he asked.

The doctor's right eyebrow quirked upwards. "You want me to read to you?"

"Just a little. I would like to know what you read."

Dr. McCoy frowned at him for a moment, but finally took the book from him, yanking it from his hands. "Sit," he instructed as he began flipping through the book.

"No. You sit." Pavel stepped out of the way so the doctor could take the armchair. Dr. McCoy didn't argue. He eyed Pavel suspiciously and then settled in his armchair. He watched as Pavel lowered himself to the floor at his feet, sitting just to the right of his legs.

"You comfortable down there?" the doctor asked skeptically.

"Yes, Doctor."

"All right, fine. It's a difficult book to understand, you know. I don't even get some of it."

Pavel cocked his head. "Why are you reading it?"

The doctor shrugged. "It's kind of like poetry, I guess. I like the way it sounds, really. I find it... calming."

Pavel smiled at that. He'd often wondered what the doctor did during his off hours, but Dr. McCoy would never tell him, no matter how many times he asked. It had never occurred to Pavel that the doctor might read poetry. But Pavel's smile quickly dissolved when the doctor didn't smile back, not that Pavel had really expected him to.

"Don't you have little things that you do to relax?" asked the doctor. "You're always running around this damn ship like your ass is on fire, muttering to yourself. If there's a guy around here who needs to relax, it's you."

Pavel nodded. "I count things."

"You... count things."

"Yes." Pavel lowered his gaze. "How long things take. How much time left until something happens. Footsteps. Heart beats. Officers with blond hair, door numbers that are prime, door numbers that add up to the number seven –"

"All right, all right, I get it. Jesus."

"Always numbers in my head. All the time. Never stop."

"Huh... That doesn't sound very relaxing."

Pavel shrugged. "Sometimes it isn't." He looked up at the doctor again. "Other times I do Vulcan long division."

Dr. McCoy stared at him with his customary scowl and then looked down at the book. "Weird fucking kid," he muttered to himself as he began flipping through the pages. Coming from the doctor this was practically a term of endearment. Pavel couldn't help but smile again.

"Does it matter where I start?" asked the doctor.

"No."

"Good." He settled on a page somewhere near the end, shook his head as though he didn't quite believe he was doing this, cleared his throat and began:

> Solitude. Hailey's bare feet.  
> And all her patience now assumes.  
> Garland of Spring's Sacred Bloom.  
> By you, ever sixteen, this World's preserved.  
> By you, this World has everything left to lose.  
> And I, your sentry of ice, shall allways protect  
> what your Joy so dangerously resumes.  
> I'll destroy no World  
> so long it keeps turning with flurry & gush,  
> petals & stems bending and lush,  
> and allways our hushes returning anew.  
> Everyone betrays the Dream  
> but who cares for it? O Hailey no,  
> I could never walk away from you.

Pavel had no idea what any that meant, but the doctor's voice was soft, his honey-smooth Southern drawl peeking out from behind every syllable, and the cadence of the words he read had a calm, easy flow to them. Pavel stared up at him, riveted, fascinated by the way the little lines of tension dissolved from between the doctor's eyebrows.

The doctor flipped to another page and continued:

> Away with the rest.  
> Except for Sam I couldn't care less.  
> Left above such stealing drops  
> beside all the ways I dash so easily. Bent, unmet, if  
> pathetically imposed upon, begged, by Sam's  
> Dead Hope. Sauntering over now. Shaggy. Mauled

Dr. McCoy stopped reading as Pavel got up on his knees. He leaned against the front of the armrest and peered around the book, feigning interest in the text on the pages. What he wanted was to be closer to the doctor. Suddenly the lack of seating in the room seemed like a pro rather than a con.

The doctor eyed him for a moment and then continued:

> We're the unwelcome, the lost,  
> poor journeys beyond cost. We're the frail,  
> orphaned, unweathered and uncrossed.  
> We're the unwashed and rude. We're the once missed,  
> dismissed and allways misused. Because we're unfinished  
> and feered and we're never pursued.

Dr. McCoy stopped reading, shut the book and looked at Pavel. Pavel had to take a deep breath, as he had apparently forgotten to keep breathing during the last passage, and he realized that his eyes had naturally left the book's pages in favor of staring at the doctor's face, watching his mouth while he read.

"You have that look in your eye," said the doctor. "The one that says you're thinking about crawling into my lap again." He pointed at Pavel. "I remember that look from last time."

Pavel bit his lip and began to blush. His face was giving away more than he would've liked, but he had no idea how to stop it. The doctor did things to him he couldn't control, made him feel like he was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid being since he'd hit puberty; sweet and cute and small, something to be cared for and coddled. Pavel wasn't comfortable with how much he liked it. He hated when anyone else made him feel this way, even his own mother. But with the doctor... everything was different.

Pavel was about to shake his head no, but then the doctor moved the book off his legs and, with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes, he patted his lap. Pavel's stomach did a half-pleasant, half-nauseating little flip. He scrambled to his feet and considered the doctor's inviting lap for a moment. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle up to him just then. He'd been fantasizing about doing just that ever since the first time in the doctor's office, except that in his fantasies they were both wearing far less clothing.

Pavel hesitated. He was being read to; this wasn't exactly the naked portion of the evening. But the bourbon was working its way through him, making him feel all warm and snuggly and daring and he _wanted_ this to be the naked portion of the evening.

He got out of his shoes and his socks and then began unfastening his pants.

 

* * *

Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell?

Bones held up a hand. "What... what are you doing?"

Chekov looked innocently at him, hands poised at his waistband. "I would like to be more comfortable. It is okay?"

Bones opened his mouth and then closed it. Ensign Chekov taking off his pants and curling up in his lap was a rather intriguing prospect. The boy was here for sex, after all, the pants were coming off eventually.

Bones waved a hand at him to signal that it was all right to continue. With a sweet little grin, Chekov unfastened his pants and let them drop. He now stood before Bones in nothing but his long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of snug little boxer briefs. He had thin legs with narrow, firm-looking thighs. By the looks of his bulge, he wasn't hard yet. Bones couldn't say the same for himself. He stared for a moment, but then cleared his throat and looked away.

"Well, hop on, then," said Bones. Chekov moved toward him, perched on his lap and turned his body to mostly face Bones.

The two of them stared at each other.

"This is completely fucked up, you know that, don't ya, kid?" said Bones.

Chekov nodded, giving Bones his very best innocent face. "But... you like it, yes?"

"Hmph," Bones grunted and looked at his book again.

"You are hard. I can feel it."

"How observant of you. Yes, I find you very attractive and this is all very exciting, but that doesn't stop this from being the weirdest damn thing that's ever happened to me."

Chekov seemed to consider these words for a moment. He then leaned in close and proceeded to nuzzle Bones's neck as though trying to relax him.

"But you do like it," he repeated in a whisper.

Bones closed his eyes. He slipped an arm around Chekov and tilted his face up so Chekov could nuzzle more. His cock twitched in his pants. "Yes, I like it," he sighed.

"Read to me."

Bones looked down at the book again. He rested it on the armrest, flipped to another page and read:

> We're the unmended, the untended,  
> cold soldiers of the shoe. We're the neglected,  
> the never resurrected, agonies of the few.  
> We're the once kissed, unmissed and allways  
> refused. Because we're the unfinished  
> and feered and we're never pursued.

A little whimper escaped the ensign and he cuddled up to Bones even more, burying his face in Bones's neck.

"This stuff's really doin' it for you, huh?" said Bones. Chekov only moaned. Bones looked down at Chekov's lap; the boy was definitely getting hard now.

Bones continued:

> And just that easily, on my behalf,  
> I come around. Because I'm burning.  
> The beast of War feeds only on the meats of War.  
> And now I'm for carnage.  
> Here's how my anguish frees.  
> Destroy everyone of course. Because I'm unwanted  
> and unsafe. And I'll take tears away with torments & rape,  
> killings & fears not even the dead will escape.  
> Encircling the Guilty, Ashamed, Blameless and  
> Enslaved. Absolved. Butchering their prejudice.

Chekov was now caressing Bones's face and kissing his way to Bones's mouth. Bones raised his face from his book and found his lips instantly locked with Chekov's. Chekov shifted on his lap, gripped his shoulders and straddled him while dipping his tongue into Bones's mouth. Bones pressed his free hand to the small of Chekov's back, kissing him, letting their tongues play together. He felt Chekov's hands on either side of his face, felt Chekov's hard-on pressing against his stomach.

Chekov finally released his mouth and looked at him with sleepy eyes. "I have been practicing," he whispered.

"Practicing?"

Chekov nodded. "Practicing for tonight. Using my fingers. I can get four inside myself now."

Bones went a little slack-jawed as an image of Chekov naked and spread out on a bed with his own fingers buried inside himself filled his mind. "I see."

"Your fingers are thicker than mine."

"Yes, they are."

"Maybe we should practice with yours."

Damn, but this kid meant business.

"You wanna run into my bedroom and grab the little black tube I've got in my bedside table?" Bones murmured.

"Yes, Doctor," Chekov whispered. Bones let him go and watched him get up and walk away toward the bedroom.

 

* * *

 _...16, 17, 18, 19..._

Pavel counted down the seconds from the moment he stood up and walked away to the moment he returned from the doctor's bedroom with the little, black, squeezable tube of what he knew was lubricant. His dick was throbbing, almost painfully hard. He still felt nice and warm from the alcohol. The doctor found him attractive; Dr. McCoy's words to that effect were still echoing in his head and had done so about 45 times already. Pavel had already known this, of course, but that didn't lessen the impact of hearing it out loud.

 _... 23, 24, 25, 26._

Pavel stopped before the doctor and popped the top open on the tube with his shaky hands. "Give me your hand," he said. Dr. McCoy presented his free hand and Pavel squeezed a little bit of the transparent, slippery liquid onto his fingers. He then closed and put the tube aside and gently distributed the lube onto three of the doctor's fingers. He hoped the doctor couldn't feel him quivering. Their eyes met and locked and Pavel smiled shyly at him. The doctor didn't smile back, but Pavel felt the doctor's thumb caress his fingers. Pavel stopped and looked down at their hands. Yes, the doctor's thumb was definitely rubbing at one of his fingers. What was that? Affection? Or could the doctor feel him shaking and was simply attempting to calm Pavel's nerves? Pavel was hoping for the former but quickly came to the conclusion that even the latter would be a sign of affection.

Dr. McCoy abruptly pulled his hand away and looked down at the book on the armrest. "You ready?" he asked gruffly.

Pavel took a breath and nodded as he wiped his hand off on his underwear. "Yes, Doctor." He then unceremoniously removed his briefs, letting them fall and then stepping out of them. He watched the doctor's face; his eyes moved up from the book and landed right on Pavel's cock, which twitched in response.

Pavel straddled him again, held onto his shoulders. "I am ready, Doctor," he murmured. "You will read to me more?"

Dr. McCoy nodded. Their eyes were locked as he moved his lubricated hand around to Pavel's back. Pavel settled even closer, moving their faces nearer until he could feel the doctor's breath. That day in the doctor's office when he'd sat on the doctor's lap, he'd wanted so badly to spend more time touching, exploring, but he'd known then that he would have been pushing his luck. Things were different now. The doctor had invited him here and, Pavel knew, was being extremely indulgent. Pavel knew he had a lot more leeway now.

He reached up and began to trace the doctor's ruggedly handsome features, fingertips floating over his expressive eyebrows, down his slightly prickly cheek and across his cute, pointed nose. They found their way down to his lips just as the doctor's index finger touched him above his entrance. Pavel arched his back a bit, raising his ass up a little, and the doctor's finger slid down over his hole, which pulsed as though begging to be filled.

Dr. McCoy was watching Pavel's face closely as he began sliding the finger inside. Pavel's breath caught in his throat.

"That all right, kid?"

"Uhhghhh," Pavel sighed, his eyes glazing over as the doctor's finger pushed in deeper.

"This is the first time anything besides your own fingers has been up there, isn't it?"

Pavel nodded, wordless.

"What's going through that head of yours, huh? You counting how many seconds my finger's been up there? How many inches in it is?"

Pavel shook his head and forced his eyes to focus again. "No. Not when you touch me. The numbers stop when you touch me."

Dr. McCoy stared at him in silence for a moment, his finger now in as far as it could go. "Is that right?"

Pavel nodded. He wrapped his arms around the doctor's neck and began nuzzling his cheek. "Read to me, Doctor," he whispered. A moment later Pavel heard pages turning.

As Dr. McCoy began to read again, his finger began slowly thrusting in and out.

> Patience. Their Value. Because I'm without value.  
> I'm the coming of every holocaust. Turning no lost.  
> Rending tissue, sinew & bone. Excepting no suffering.  
> By me all levees will break. All silos heave.  
> I will walk heavy.  
> And I will walk strange.

"Another finger," Pavel whispered. The doctor looked at him.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Please."

The doctor obliged, carefully sliding his middle finger in next to the first one. Pavel frowned and whimpered at the. "It is okay," he breathed against the doctor's cheek when he felt him hesitate. "Just... read."

 

* * *

Bones now had three fingers inside Chekov and Chekov was squirming on his lap. Chekov sat up straight and let his head fall back. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open. He then grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off in one, fluid movement, tossing it away, onto the floor. His chest was narrow, pale and hairless, his stomach flat, his nipples soft pink, like his lips, and rock hard.

Chekov met Bones's eyes again. "Now," he said.

"Now what?"

Chekov looked down and brought a hand to Bones's crotch. Their eyes met again. "This. Inside. Now."

"You're just itchin' to lose that virginity, aren't you?" said Bones. Although he couldn't lie to himself, he was just as eager to get inside Chekov as Chekov was to have him inside. He carefully pulled his fingers out of Chekov's ass and turned the book over on the armrest so he could use both hands to get his pants undone. Chekov meanwhile was fumbling with the lube, squeezing some out onto his fingers. Bones could feel him shaking.

"You okay, kid?"

Chekov looked at him and nodded. He looked dazed and horny, he was flushed from his cheeks all the way down to his belly and, of course, his cock. He licked his lips and Bones let out a low growl, almost involuntarily. The kid was sexy as hell. Bones took him by the back of his neck and brought their faces together for a hard, hot kiss that took Chekov by surprise, making him almost yelp as their lips came together. Bones sucked hungrily at the boy's lips and filled Chekov's mouth with his tongue. Chekov's warm, compact little body quivered even harder against him.

Chekov wrenched his mouth away almost violently and now his eyes were so hot with lust he barely looked his age at all. He looked older, more mature. Bones had to remind himself that the kid was still only seventeen.

"Right now," Chekov panted. Bones nodded and took his dick out. Chekov looked down at it and stopped breathing. Bones looked at his face; he was just staring with his mouth hanging open.

"Think we can get that inside you?" asked Bones.

Chekov nodded, still staring at Bones's erection. "Yes," he whispered, though he looked uncertain. He moved his hand down and quickly lubricated Bones's cock. Bones shuddered at the sensation. When he looked up into Chekov's eyes again, he found Chekov watching him with his hot, lusty gaze. Chekov bit his lip and any maturity Bones thought he'd seen a moment ago completely dissolved.

"Christ, you're just a kid," he whispered.

Chekov shook his head. "No. You always call me that." He shook his head again as if to tell Bones this would no longer be acceptable. He slowly stroked up and down Bones's slicked-up cock and said softly, but clearly, "I am Pavel. You will call me Pavel."

This last statement wasn't a question. Bones nodded. "Pavel."

Chekov nodded and whispered, "Yes." He then took his hand off Bones's cock, took hold of Bones's shirt instead and proceeded to help him out of it.

 

* * *

Pavel did wonder if they were going to be able to get the doctor inside him. Doctor McCoy's cock was long and fat, as big as Pavel had imagined it to be and then some. Pavel tried to estimate how many inches it was, but it was hard to tell in this position.

He pulled off the doctor's shirt and tossed it aside. And there was Dr. McCoy, pretty much naked before him for the first time, except for his pants and underwear which were pushed down to his mid-thighs. He was broad-shouldered, firm, muscular, hairy-chested, beautiful. Pavel ran his hands all over the doctor's chest, shoulders and biceps.

"You are like a god," he said.

The doctor gave him a lopsided smile. "What are you, drunk?"

But when Pavel looked up at him again, he didn't return the smile. Pavel was being very serious. The smile left the doctor's face.

"You shouldn't say things like that," the doctor said, serious now too. "I'm just a guy. And I'm not that great a guy either. In case you hadn't noticed, I can be kind of an insensitive bastard."

Pavel shook his head, disagreeing. "There is an old Russian saying that goes, 'Один мужчина является судить по его делу, а не его слова.'"

"English, kid."

"It means a man is judged by his deeds, not by his words." Pavel reached out and touched the doctor's face. "You are a good man, Doctor. I know this. I see it. You can be... harsh, yes. But you are also honest and loyal."

Dr. McCoy simply stared up at him. Pavel had expected some kind of retort, but the doctor had nothing, and in fact seemed to be looking at Pavel differently, his expression having somewhat softened.

The doctor _was_ honest and loyal and many other wonderful things, and the mere act of thinking about his good qualities made Pavel want him all the more. He gazed into the doctor's eyes and whispered, "Fuck me, Doctor," as he caressed Dr. McCoy's cheek.

The doctor's eyes grew dark. He took a deep breath and took Pavel in his arms. "Can't say no to that," he whispered, and he kissed Pavel deeply as he slumped down in the armchair, making it easier for Pavel to shimmy up and get the doctor's cock positioned at his entrance. Pavel guided it in with a hand and scrunched up his face as it began to slide in.

Dr. McCoy held him by his waist. "Push down with your muscles," he murmured soothingly, caressing Pavel's skin. "That'll help it go in. Go slowly."

Pavel began quivering again as he was breached. It was extremely uncomfortable, but he'd known it would be and there was no way he was going to stop. He wanted this. He gripped the doctor's shoulders as he slowly lowered himself down.

"That's it. That's my good boy."

Those words made Pavel's cock twitch, made his body relax a bit to allow the doctor to slide in a little easier. It was as though the words made his body want to open up and accept the doctor that much more. He dropped his head back and moaned plaintively at the ceiling.

Finally the doctor was all the way inside. Pavel just sat there for a moment, shaking and panting as he slowly lowered his face.

"We can stop anytime," murmured the doctor, his big hands moving up and down Pavel's sides and back. "If it's too much, we can just take it right out."

Pavel wasn't about to do that. He finally had Dr. McCoy inside him, he wasn't about to let him go now. He leaned forward, put his head against the doctor's shoulder, and felt the doctor embrace him.

"We don't have to do this," whispered the doctor as he caressed Pavel's back.

Pavel swallowed hard and breathed deeply, trying to relax, counting to five for each inhalation, and to five again for each exhalation. He slipped his arms around the doctor's neck.

"Read to me, Doctor," he whispered.

 _1... 2... 3... 4... 5... … … … 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... … …_

 

* * *

The kid was shaking, whimpering, his skin was growing moist with sweat. Bones thought they should take a step back, prepare Chekov a little more, try again in a few minutes. But Chekov didn't seem to want that.

"Read to me, Doctor," Chekov whispered.

Bones reached for the book immediately. "You know, this is the weirdest damn kink I think I've ever encountered," he muttered, but he wasn't about to refuse. If this helped the kid, then he was all for it. The last thing he wanted to be doing was hurting him.

So he read:

> I'm the prophecy prophecies pass.  
> Why need dies at last.  
> How oceans dry. Islands drown.  
> And skies of salt crash to the ground.  
> I turn the powerful. Defy the weak.  
> Only grass grows down abandoned streets.

Chekov began to squirm, testing, feeling, clenching around Bones's girth. Bones cradled him with one arm, holding the book with his other hand, and he gently, ever so slightly, pushed upwards a bit with his hips, also testing. Chekov groaned and Bones couldn't tell if it was a noise of pain or pleasure. Chekov hadn't tried to lift up and away from his little thrust, which was a good sign.

Chekov finally lifted his face from Bones's shoulder. His face was moist and flushed; he looked fevered, exhausted, dazed. And so fucking sexy. A few of his curls were matted to his forehead. Bones reached up and swept them aside.

Slowly, very gingerly, Chekov began to move, up and then down, up and then down, holding onto Bones's shoulders for support, his eyes closed, a look of discomfort on his face.

"Read to me," he repeated.

Bones was rather mesmerized by the boy's body as he began to ride. He didn't want to look away, but he made himself do so to give Chekov what he wanted:

> For a greater economy shall follow US  
> and it will be undone.  
> And a greater autonomy shall follow US  
> and it too will be undone.  
> And a greater feeling shall follow Love  
> and it too we will blow to dust.  
> For I am longings without trust. The cycloidal haste  
> freedom from Hailey forever wastes.  
> Dust cares for only dust.  
> And time only for US.

By the end of the passage, Bones's voice was shaky and breathy. Chekov's ride had gained momentum and the boy seemed completely lost in the moment.

"Doctor," he moaned, riding faster, his eyebrows slanting upward as they did so often, only this time the look wasn't entirely innocent. This time it was accompanied by increasing cries of lust and an open, panting mouth. Bones stared up at him, eyes darting around, trying to take in this magnificent sight all at once. He forgot about the book (the hell with the damn book!), let it fall to the floor with a thud, and reached up with both hands to feel any and every part of Chekov he could.

"Your voice," Chekov moaned. "Let me hear your voice."

Bones wasn't about to reach for the book now, wasn't even sure if he _could_ reach it, but it didn't matter; he knew by heart the final words in the last passage he'd read. "Because I am too soon," he panted, taking hold of Chekov's waist and helping him ride. He pushed his hips up to meet Chekov each time he came back down, their skin slapping loudly in the quiet room. "Because without Her I am only revolutions... Of ruin."

"Haaahhhh," Chekov moaned at the ceiling. "I... I... come now."

"What?" Bones asked in confusion, but a moment later something warm and wet hit his stomach. Chekov was coming, and pretty hard from the looks of it. Bones couldn't help but marvel at this. It had come from nowhere, as though his cock had just pushed it up and out of the boy's body. Bones was amazed at how hard the spurts were, some of it even landing up at his neck. This just underscored how young Chekov still was; Bones remembered a time when his cock spurted that hard too.

"Fuck, you're such a good boy," Bones growled, thrusting into him with abandon now, no longer afraid of hurting him, so turned on that he was losing control.

Chekov raised a hand and slowly brushed his matted curls off his sweaty forehead as he let out a series of hard, loud groans. And then his orgasm finally petered out. He shuddered, fell silent and collapsed against Bones's body.

Bones wrapped his arms around him and held on tight as he pressed a fierce kiss to the kid's temple and fucked up into him as though afraid someone might snatch him away at any second.

 

* * *

Pavel lay, exhausted, against the doctor's firm, warm body. The doctor's arms encircled him completely, held him tight, and he continued to thrust up into Pavel so hard, so passionately, Pavel couldn't help but moan and squirm even though his was spent.

"You're such a sweet thing," the doctor rumbled in his ear. "Oh... ah... yeah, here it comes."

Pavel clung to him, one hand going up into the doctor's hair, his mouth going to the doctor's ear to suck on the earlobe as the sound of the doctor's climax filled the room. He sounded helpless, desperate, two words Pavel would never have associated with this powerful man. He sounded vulnerable as he moaned Pavel's name. He sounded wonderful.

Dr. McCoy began to come down from his climax, every muscle sagging, his grip on Pavel loosening. Pavel released his earlobe, rested his head against the doctor's and listened to him pant.

"Oh, fuck," Dr. McCoy moaned. "You okay?"

"Yes," Pavel whispered. He felt the doctor kiss his cheek. He smiled to himself.

"Damn, boy. You took to sex like a duck to water, didn't you?"

Pavel grinned even more and sat up so he could look at the doctor, who gave him a big smile, making his cheeks dimple rather cutely.

"Hi," said the doctor.

"Hi," said Pavel, still grinning.

"You look happy."

"So do you."

"Heh. Yeah. Don't tell anybody I was smiling this much. Might ruin my image."

Pavel knew the doctor was joking, but he nodded anyway. "Yes, Doctor."

"So," said the doctor, gripping Pavel's waist and caressing his skin, "How was your first time?"

Pavel considered the question for a moment. How could he possibly express what the doctor had just made him feel? There were no words that seemed adequate. Finally he settled on one and he murmured, "Hеимоверно."

"English, dammit."

Pavel's grin intensified. His face was starting to hurt. "It means 'incredible'."

The doctor continued to gaze up at him with a soft and slightly appraising look in his eyes. "You blush rather attractively, you know that?" said the doctor, reaching up and stroking Pavel's cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"Thank you, Doctor... Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"I think I am hungry now."

Dr. McCoy started laughing. "Yeah. Yeah, let's get you fed. You're gonna need your strength tonight."

They carefully disengaged. As the doctor slid out of him, Pavel felt come oozing out of him. He bit his lip and tried to will himself to stop grinning like an idiot. He wondered how long it would be until the doctor took him again.

 _1, 2, 3, 4, 5..._

Pavel counted the seconds as they ate together and he kept glancing at the bedroom door over and over. He counted how many times he looked at the bedroom door. He counted how many times the doctor looked at him (with a sweet sheepishness that Pavel had never seen on the doctor's face before) and smiled. He counted how many times his stomach did that slightly nauseating flippy thing.

And then the doctor was leading him by the hand to the bedroom. They stepped inside and the doctor turned to him and took him gently by his face and kissed him so deeply that Pavel's legs almost gave out.

The counting immediately stopped again.

He was so much shorter than the doctor that he had to tilt his head all the way back to meet his lips. He was often rather annoyed by his own small stature. Not tonight. Tonight, when this big, beautiful man took Pavel in his arms and made him feel small, it was the most wonderful feeling in the universe.

Pavel sucked cock for the very first time. Dr. McCoy was big and warm and heavy in his mouth and he loved it. He loved the noises he could elicit from the doctor, he loved the soft sighs and the hard curse words. The doctor was impressed with the job Pavel was doing. He stroked Pavel's hair and told him how wonderful he was, how he was "one of the best damn fucks I've ever had". Pavel didn't think he ought to be proud of such a thing. He'd achieved so much in his short life. He was navigator of the Enterprise, he was a child genius. This was just sex. It was nothing compared to everything else. It was just his body. It was just his mouth. So what if he had an adorable face and cute little body? That was hardly an achievement.

Still, when Dr. McCoy said those things, Pavel felt all warm inside, he felt like his heart was swelling. He closed his eyes and sucked the doctor contentedly and proudly. He was as proud of this as he ever had been of anything else in his life.

 

* * *

The boy's mouth was incredible! Jesus fucking Christ!

Bones could've laid back, relaxed and just let the blow job happen, but he had to watch. He kept himself propped up on an elbow and watched the teen genius between his legs sucking away, head bobbing, cheeks hollowed, eyes closed, eyelashes floating prettily above his flushed cheekbones. Bones stroked his soft curls and encouraged him with words of praise.

"Gonna come," he finally murmured. "Want it in your mouth?"

"Mm-hm," Chekov hummed, nodding for a moment and then continuing to suck until a sharp arc of pleasure began to sweep through Bones's body. Bones wondered vaguely if Chekov was counting how many seconds long his orgasm was.

Chekov was swallowing him down, and then... he wasn't. He suddenly started coughing, pulling his mouth away and spluttering. Bones's orgasm was just ebbing as he sat up and pulled Chekov to him. Chekov wheezed and coughed and the come he still had in his mouth spilled over the edge of his lip and ran down his chin.

"It's all right," Bones assured him, reaching over with one hand to pour a glass of water from the pitcher by his bed. "Just try to breathe."

Chekov drank a bit when he'd finally stopped choking. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a bit raspy.

"Nothing to be sorry for," said Bones as he set the glass down. He tilted Chekov's face up and gently licked the come from his chin directly up into his mouth.

Bones gave Chekov his very first blow job. He drew it out, made it last, alternating his technique every few minutes to keep Chekov's sensitive body from erupting too soon. Having this boy writhing helplessly on his bed was too wonderful a sight to let go by too quickly. He had Chekov begging and whining in Russian by the end of it. When Chekov was positively out of control with need, Bones finally let him fill his mouth with come.

They took a break after that and Bones let Chekov cuddle up to him. Bones hated to cuddle. He liked his space, hated being crowded. But he was having a hard time saying no to Chekov.

"I hope you appreciate how many exceptions I've made for you tonight," Bones said.

"Yes, Doctor."

"You know, most people call me Bones."

"Yes, I know. I am not sure I would be comfortable calling you that, though. Your name is Leonard, isn't it?"

"Yes. If you call me that, I'm kicking you out." Bones thought he felt Chekov smile against his chest.

"Yes, Doctor."

"You know... I am technically seeing someone else."

There was silence for a moment and then Chekov said, "You are in a relationship?"

"No," Bones quickly replied. "No, I wouldn't call it that. I mean, we're close, him and I, we care about each other and all, but we're free to see other people. I just thought I ought to tell you that I'm not only with you."

"You are... _with_ me?"

Bones smiled in the darkness. "I was considering seeing you again, if that's what you're asking."

Chekov nestled more snugly against him and Bones could practically feel the contentment radiating off the kid.

"Yes, Doctor," Chekov whispered.

 

* * *

Bones stepped into the captain's quarters without ringing the door chime. He didn't need to; Jim knew he was coming.

"Jim?" he called, moving toward the bedroom. He stopped when a nude, chiseled figure strolled casually out of a room and headed toward the bedroom. Jim. Naked. And munching an apple.

"Hey, you!" Jim said cheerfully through a mouthful. He jerked his head at the bedroom, indicating Bones should follow, which Bones was already doing, shaking his head as he went.

"How's it goin'?" asked Jim as they entered the room. He took another big bite of his half-eaten apple, set the rest down on his bedside table and flopped down on the bed.

"Fine." Bones took off his shoes and sat next to Jim. He turned toward him and started caressing his stomach as he leaned in for a kiss, but Jim had other ideas.

"So!" said Jim, pulling his lips out of Bones's reach. "Ensign Chekov's been disgustingly happy the past couple of days."

"Here we go," Bones sighed, pulling away.

"And why would that be, Doc?" asked Jim in mock confusion. "You know, I seem to recall you mentioning something about you and him scheduling a little private meeting in your quarters. Did you have that private meeting, Dr. McCoy?"

"You know, this really isn't any of your business."

"Oh, but it is. I'm the captain. You see."

"Hmph."

"So," Jim leaned in and whispered, "did you fuck the little Russian?"

Bones didn't answer. He looked away and shook his head. The truth was he was highly amused by all this, still on a bit of a high from Friday night, but he wasn't about to let Jim know it.

"Oh my god, you did!" Jim exclaimed. "You totally fucked him!"

Bones gave him an annoyed look. "Say that a little louder, will you? I think there's a lieutenant down in the Stellar Cartography lab who didn't quite hear you."

Jim turned his body to face Bones more. "What was it like?"

"It was like sex. You know. That thing that continually eats up about ninety-nine percent of your thought processes."

"But what was it _like_? He's so young and... and _small_."

"You've been with women smaller than him."

"Yeah, but they were women! He's like this sweet little... _elf_ thing."

"That is the weirdest damn thing you have ever said."

Jim was up and straddling Bones before Bones knew what he was doing.

"Tell me," Jim murmured, stroking Bones's chest. "What position did you fuck him in first? Missionary? Doggy? I bet he likes doggy – No wait! Missionary. He's such a sweet thing, he probably wanted to gaze at you while you popped his cherry."

"Jim," said Bones seriously, "I'm not telling you anything. How would you feel if I discussed intimate details of _our_ relationship with Chekov?"

Jim smirked at him and leaned in to say softly in his ear, "But it is okay, Doctor. I would like ze _keptain_ to hear vhat a stud you were Friday night."

Bones grinned. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Jim moved to Bones's other ear and said in his own voice, "He wants you to tell me. Have you seen the big, dopey grin he's been wearing the last couple of days? I bet he's just bursting to tell people himself."

"Well, he'd better not."

Jim moved to the other ear again and said in his Chekov accent, "Vill you spank me if I do, Doctor?"

"Okay, correction: you're _king_ of the idiots. And Chekov can pronounce W sounds, by the way."

"Right, right, I forgot." Jim cleared his throat and continued with his Chekov impression while squirming on Bones's lap. "Do you want to spank me, Doctor? I think I would like zat... _wery... wery..._ much."

"Okay, that's it!" Bones gripped Jim's arms and flipped them both over so that he was on top. He clamped a hand over Jim's mouth and said in his low rumble, "Now you listen to me, _Captain_. You're going to stay well away from the subject of my private dealings with Ensign Chekov. Got it?"

Jim's gaze became all hot and smoldering. He emitted a little noise of arousal against Bones's hand and squirmed underneath him.

Bones frowned at him. "Is this turning you on?"

"Mmph," Jim grunted and pushed his hardening crotch up against Bones.

"Unbelievable," Bones muttered, finally releasing Jim's mouth. Jim grinned at him.

"Think he'd be up for joining us one night?" Jim asked.

Bones sat up on his knees and threw up his hands. "I give up." He pulled off his shirt and tossed it away. "You're a hopeless case."

"You're probably right," Jim said thoughtfully. "I'm a lost cause. I think the only course of action here is to fuck me until I can't walk."

"Best thing that's come out of your mouth since I got here." Bones was already taking his pants off as Jim slithered away to find the lube he had lying around someplace.

"Or, you know," Jim said as he turned over onto his stomach and felt around underneath the bed, "I could fuck you."

Bones wriggled out of his pants and underwear. "Yeah, if you want."

Jim found what he was looking for and glanced back at him. Bones looked at him too and saw Jim's eyes trailing down his body.

"You did disobey a direct order, you know," said Jim. "I should probably punish you."

Bones arched an eyebrow. "And what order was this?"

Jim sat up on his knees. "I ordered you to divulge the details of your evening with Ensign Chekov and you directly refused."

Bones chuckled. "Oh, Christ."

Jim pointed at him and declared, "Mutiny!"

"Shut up, Jim."

"Turn over, Doctor."

Bones stopped chuckling; Jim looked deadly serious.

"Turn over?"

"That's right, on all fours. _Now_."

"Oh, man," Bones laughed again, even as he did as he was told. "You're a piece of work."

"You will address me in the proper manner, Doctor. I am your superior." Jim crawled over and stood on his knees next to Bones, who looked around and up at him with a little smirk on his face.

"Are you gonna fuck me or not?"

"Are you gonna fuck me or not... _Captain_."

"Oh, for the love of – OW!"

Jim had delivered a solid thwack to Bones's ass with his hand. Bones looked up at him in shock.

"What the mother _fuck_ was that?"

"Your punishment, Doctor," Jim said calmly, his blue eyes twinkling devilishly, a cocky smile on his full lips. One of his pecs twitched as he towered over Bones as though power and authority were literally coursing through him just beneath the skin. Bones couldn't help but respond to the sight, his temperature rising, his cock twitching. He'd always been drawn to this side of Jim, this strong, commanding side that just couldn't be ignored, no matter how obnoxious. Even when Jim was being impossible or ridiculous, there was something undeniable about him that drew people to him, and Bones had never been immune.

Jim dropped the little tube of lube onto the mattress, took hold of the back of Bones's neck and forced his head down onto the mattress.

"Ow! Fuck, Jim, what the fuck?"

"Shut it!" And Jim began spanking Bones's ass again, hard and fast. Bones grunted and squirmed but didn't struggle to get away. He was good and hard now and he moved a hand to his cock to play with it.

Jim stopped spanking him. "What's this?" he asked, shifting to peer between Bones's legs. "Are you... _touching_ yourself?"

"Oh, is that not allowed?" Bones asked dryly, his hand stilling on his cock.

"Of course it's not!" Jim roughly pushed Bones's hand off himself.

"Oh. Silly me."

"Ohohoho, you're just full of sass today, aren't you?" Jim repositioned himself, kneeling behind Bones, and he took hold of Bones's cock and his balls, encircling his thumb and fingers all around the base. "Well, Dr. Sass Mouth, we'll see how much you've got to say when I'm through with you."

"Uh oh," said Bones, not sounding at all worried.

"I said shut up."

Bones rolled his eyes and tried to make himself more comfortable by pulling a pillow closer so he could rest his chin on it. He felt Jim moving around behind him, heard him pop open the lube. And then he felt fingers prodding at his asshole while Jim's other hand squeezed and played with his dick and balls. Two of Jim's fingers slipped inside almost right away and Bones groaned and clenched around them.

"Now tell me," said Jim in a low voice, "how did you fuck him first?"

"This again? – Ow! Goddammit!"

Jim had tightened his grip on Bones's genitals enough for it to be quite uncomfortable.

"Answer me, Doctor," said Jim without even a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Fuck!" Bones cursed as Jim's fingers worked inside him, locating his prostate. "Uhn... god. Uh... he was on top. We were sitting in my armchair."

"I see, I see. And why did you choose that position?"

"Thought it would be... good for him to... have the control... first time, you know."

"How very thoughtful of you, Doctor."

"I thought so – OW! Dammit, Jim!"

"Did he take your cock easily?" asked Jim as he began to slide a third finger in.

"Shit, Jim... Yeah, he did really well."

"Yeah?" asked Jim breathily, probing Bones's ass and starting to stroke his dick at a maddeningly slow pace. "Big thing like you fit inside that little guy all right the first time?"

"He... uh... fuck, Jim..." Bones spread his knees further apart and arched his back. "It hurt him at first, but he relaxed after a while."

"Did you talk to him, Doctor? Tell him to relax? Tell him he was doing really well? Tell him he's a good boy?"

Fuck, but Jim knew him a little too well. "Yes."

"I bet he liked that. I bet he liked being praised like that with your big fucking cock buried inside him."

"Jesus."

"Bet you liked it too. Teaching him like he was your own."

Bones felt his cock leaking. He squirmed and whined far too much for his own liking. Jim's stroking picked up a little speed and he got a fourth finger inside Bones's hole.

"How many times did you fuck him?"

"Ah... I don't know."

"Oh, but I think you do." Jim stopped stroking and once again squeezed Bones around the base a little too hard.

"Twice!" Bones said hastily. "I fucked him twice, goddammit!"

Jim resumed his stroking. "Only twice?"

"He was a virgin, remember? Had to take it easy on him."

"Did you take him to your bed?"

"Yes, of course."

"Did you lay him down and fuck him on his back?" Jim's voice was soft and breathy now; he was getting turned on by all this too.

"Uh-huh."

"Did you fuck him hard, Doctor? Once he was used to it, did you give it to him good and hard? Did he beg for it? Did he whine and moan and plead for your big cock?"

"Oh, fuck." Bones's cock was throbbing in Jim's hand. Despite Jim's slow strokes, Bones felt an orgasm creeping up on him. "Jim, either fuck me or let me come, will you? I'm about to explode here!"

Jim pulled his fingers out, moved around behind Bones for a moment and a little while later Bones felt the head of Jim's cock rubbing against his hole. He got up on his hands again and pushed impatiently back against Jim, groaning as Jim began to slide inside.

"Fuck, that's good," Jim sighed. "Did he taste you, Bonesy? Did you let him taste you?"

"Yes," Bones panted.

"You got that sweet little pink mouth around your cock, eh? Did you come down his throat?"

"Yeah, oh fuck, yeah." Jim pushed all the way inside. Bones let his head drop forward and he felt Jim lean forward and put his fingers in his hair.

"Did he gulp you down, Bonesy?" Jim purred as he began to move his hips and gently pet Bones's hair and neck. "Did he drink you all up?"

"He... choked on it a bit," Bones panted. "Some of it dribbled out of his mouth and ran down his chin. Jesus _fuck_ , it was the hottest fucking thing."

Jim moaned and pumped faster, gripping Bones's hips with both hands now. "Your come running down that sweet thing's chin... God, I think my brain just exploded."

Bones took hold of his dick and started rubbing himself. "I cupped his little face and licked his chin clean and made him suck my come right off my tongue."

"Fucking hell!" Jim groaned, pushing roughly into Bones's ass. "Oh... Bonesy... you have _got_ to get that kid to join us one night. Got to... Shit, I'm gonna come!"

Bones could just see it: Ensign Chekov on all fours, ass filled up with Bones's cock, mouth filled up with Jim's, come splattered across his back, his stomach, his face, somehow still looking completely innocent while being utterly debauched. Bones shuddered hard and started to come seconds after Jim started to.

When Jim finally collapsed on his back, Bones's arms and legs crumpled out from underneath him and he landed on his stomach with a grunt.

"You lucky son of a bitch," Jim panted in his ear.

"Why, because I fucked Chekov?"

"Yeah, man."

Bones chuckled. "You've deflowered plenty of innocent, young people."

Jim slid off him with a groan and laid on his back next to him. Bones turned his face to look at him.

"Yeah, but I kinda want Chekov."

"Well, forget it. I'm not asking him to join us."

Jim scrunched up his face. "Oh, you're no fun."

"Jim, this kid has been defiled enough for one lifetime, all right? Besides, I don't know if his immune system can handle being exposed to you."

Jim snorted. "Oh, that's nice, thanks. I am curious about one thing, though."

"I'm not telling you anymore about what happened Friday night. I feel bad enough about what I've already said."

"No, it's not that. I swear."

Bones narrowed his eyes at him. "Really?"

Jim grinned. "Yeah, it's something else entirely. Honest."

"Fine, what is it?"

Jim thought for a moment and then asked, "How did he come the first time? Did you jerk him off or did he jerk himself off?"

"For fuck's sake, Jim," Bones said with a laugh he couldn't stifle. He sighed and said, "If you must know, he came without being touched."

Jim pushed up onto his elbows. "Are you kidding me?"

"Well, I _was_ fucking him, so I suppose that counts as being touched. But neither of us was touching his dick."

Jim was practically salivating. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me?"

"What, it's not unheard of. I must've been rubbing up against his prostate. Remember: virgin. His body is still really sensitive, it was probably overwhelmed by all the new sensations and just... exploded."

"My god, that must've been something to see. I hate you, man."

Bones chuckled at that and closed his eyes.

"So, does he know about us?"

"Yes. Not about you specifically, but he knows I'm seeing someone."

"And he's okay with that?"

"I think so. Wait." Bones opened his eyes and frowned at Jim. "Why would you think he'd need to be okay with it? I never said I was going to see him again."

"Oh, come on, Bones, of course you're seeing him again. You like him. Never thought you'd go for the young, innocent type."

"I don't. It's not his age, it's just... him."

Jim gazed at Bones with a soft, loving look in his eyes. "My god, you are a softy, aren't you? What is it, Bones? His big eyes? His curls? It's the curls, isn't it?"

"It's nothing, Jim, he's just cute."

"No, it's more than that. I just think he's cute. A lot of people just think he's cute. _You_ let him hover around in your office and touch your stuff. There's a difference there."

Bones sighed. "I read to him."

Jim blinked at him. "What?"

"This book I've read a million times, I left it sitting out, he saw it, he was curious, so I read to him."

Jim's lips curled into a smile. "Bones."

Bones frowned and looked away. He pulled the pillow close again and buried his face in it. "Jim?" his muffled voice said.

"Yeah?"

"I've got it bad, Jim."

He heard Jim chuckle and felt him pat his back. "I know, Bonesy. I know. Seriously though, what is it you like about him so much? Besides the obvious."

Bones raised his head and sighed. "I feel... protective of him." He looked over at Jim. "I shudder to think what kind of sick bastard he might've ended up with if he hadn't come to me."

"Now, why do you look at me when you say that?"

Bones gave him an annoyed look. "I'm serious. I know Chekov's not completely innocent; after all, he wanted me and he came after me with all he had, but – and I don't mean to toot my own horn here, but if it's older men the kid's into, he's damn lucky it was me he was drawn to. I actually give a shit about his feelings, his well being."

Jim studied Bones's face for a moment. "Is this some kinda weird paternal thing for you?"

Bones hesitated. "I suppose that's not completely outside the realm of possibility."

"Huh."

"Huh what?"

"Well, think about it; kid leaves home to go to the Academy at – what? – age thirteen? Fourteen? He leaves his parents at a very young age and once he gets up here the first person he fucks is old enough to be his father."

Bones frowned. "That isn't why he wants me. You're just stuck on some perverted daddy fantasy bullshit."

"Oh, don't think _that_ didn't cross my mind," Jim said with a smirk. "But no, I don't think it's entirely a kinky thing for either of you. There's more going on here. Seriously, Bones, the kid left his own father too soon, he's probably starved for male attention. And then along you come, the doctor, the caregiver, with a hard edge I bet his real father probably has. Of course he'd gravitate to you."

"How poetic," Bones muttered. The fact that Jim, who'd never known his own father, had come up with this particular theory was not lost on Bones, but he didn't say so. "So, what the hell do I do with him now?"

Jim grinned. "Have fun while it lasts. Make him call you daddy."

Bones shook his head, but smiled. "Sick bastard."

END


End file.
